Before the Dovah
by Aimlesslee
Summary: When Belrand walked into The Winking Skeever for a drink one evening, he had no idea that the troubled Breton who'd taken his usual table was about to turn his whole world upside down. Rated M for mild-ish violence and smut.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

_Hello, and welcome to my first attempt at fan fiction! I've been writing for as long as I can remember, but after suffering from an incredibly long bout of writers block, I got inspired after countless hours of both playing this daffy little game, and reading some of the amazing fan fiction available here. So, I figured I'd give it a whirl. I'm rusty, so please be gentle_

_The idea for this story began when I added the Alternate Start mod to my game, and was trying to come up with a background for my character. All I knew at the time was that I wanted her to be a mainly non-combat based character who would always travel with a companion. I've long held a soft-spot in my heart for Belrand, and after finding a mod that also made him much more visually appealing, I decided to pair these two up and see where they go together. _

_For those that are interested in seeing how he looks in my mind as I write this, check out Belrand New Strength on the Nexus._

_This is intended to be a prequel to the main storyline, which I hope to tackle after I finish hashing out this background story. Rating it M, because I do plan for there to be smut along the line. _

_Comments and suggestions are always welcome! I can't improve if I don't know where I'm lacking. _

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

When Belrand walked into the Winking Skeever, he wasn't expecting to find someone sitting at his usual table.

"What gives, Sorex? Can't a man be a little late paying off his tab before you start renting out his personal space?" He glared half-heartedly at his friend, who was sweeping up a broken bottle of wine and blatantly smirking at him.

"You know my dad, Bel. When it comes to money, he's strung tighter than one of them lutists up at the Bards College. But it's not so bad, eh? At least it's something soft and pretty what stole your seat," he jested, causing Belrand's eyes to travel back over to the corner table.

He could see Sorex was right; she was very pretty. He ran an appraising eye over her pale blonde hair, which she had pulled back to reveal a delicately featured face. Her eyes looked unfathomably dark in the dim, flickering candlelight, giving him the distinct impression that while she appeared to be young, she would not comport herself as such. She also looked a bit flushed, and distinctly out of place.

"Do you know anything about her?" he asked, sensing the potential to make a little money. Work had been slow with the damned civil war ramping up. People were choosing to stay close to home, not having much use for the services of your run of the mill mercenary. He may have made good friends with the innkeeper's son, but friendship didn't pay for his room. He was going to have to pack it up for more profitable stomping grounds if things didn't pick up soon.

"Not a thing, mate," Sorex lamented. "Only that she got here just this afternoon, on a ship sailing over from High Rock. Beautiful accent, what little I've heard of it. She's just been sitting over there, quiet as you please, eating and nursing that bottle of mead. Don't think she's even rented a room yet."

"Is that so?" Belrand muttered, continuing to watch her. Sorex was right. She kept to herself, slowly picking at her food. Eventually, she got Sorex's attention and signaled for another bottle of mead. Belrand quirked an eyebrow. She didn't look the sort to be drinking alone. Very interesting.

"I can hear the gears grinding away in that lump you call a head. If you don't watch it, your hair might go up in flames," Sorex laughed. "How 'bout I let you take care of this one? You're gonna have to pay for these, mind you."

Belrand grabbed the two bottles being held out to him, and began to make his way towards the table. He called back quietly over his shoulder, just loud enough for his friend to hear, "You know, Sorex, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Tell your father to put it on my tab."

* * *

She thought she might be a little bit drunk. She thought on it for a few minutes more - after all, it's not like she had anything else to do - and decided she liked it. She raised her hand the way the nice barkeeper had shown her to order another drink.

She blinked a bit when a tall, well-built man with a thick head of long, auburn hair placed the mead in front of her. He flashed a broad grin at her, and she felt a funny little tickle in her belly. _Oh, this is a handsome one, _she thought to herself. There was something odd about his eyes, although the dim lighting was making it impossible to figure out exactly what it was.

"Compliments of the gentleman up at the bar, only the staff here is kind of lazy. I had to bring it myself," he winked, looking her up and down as he sat across from her. "I'm Belrand, spellsword for hire and your knight in shining armor. What's your name, dove?"

She cocked her head at him and raised a corner of her mouth in a small grin as she gave him a return once-over. "Amaryllis Geralt, but the last person to call me that who wasn't my Da got punched in the nose. And that armor doesn't look very shiny to me."

Belrand ran a hand down the front of his fur armor, laughing. "Nothing gets past you, does it girl? Fine then, I'll be your knight in furry but well-brushed armor instead. But it's hard to imagine someone named after such a pretty flower going around socking people in the face."

"Most people are happy enough to call me Riley, so I haven't had much occasion to bloody my knuckles," she returned. The truth was she didn't know that many people to call her much of anything. And her social circle had recently drawn in even tighter. She felt herself losing her smile, and let out a long sigh. Then she picked up the bottle of mead Belrand had brought her and chugged down half of it. _Gods, this tastes so sweet,_ she winced as she let out a small burp.

"Well then, Riley it is. You know, I wouldn't drink that stuff so fast. It has a habit of sneaking up on a man, and you're a might bit tinier than most of them," he smiled at her. "You seem like you're having your fair share of troubles, are you sure you aren't in need of my most chivalrous, if a bit hairy, services?"

Riley decided she liked him. There was something about him that made him seem trustworthy, and she was greatly suffering from a lack of upstanding characters in her personal life. Hell, it was lacking characters altogether.

"Belrand, you said?" When he grinned and nodded, she continued, "I have to admit to not knowing anything about this freezing little country of yours, but what little I've managed to glean has left me certain that I came here woefully uninformed and ill prepared," she paused to hiccup, and realized her vision had gone a little fuzzy.

"Are you alright, dove? What are you needing to do?"

"I'm fine," she said. "The room just seems a bit crooked. Does it look crooked to you?"

Belrand shook his head.

"Well, nevermind the room. What I'm needing is this," she picked up her bottle of mead and took a deep pull off of it, causing Belrand to raise his eyebrows. She signaled to Sorex for another.

"What I need, hairy knight of mine, is to get to this cottage I've inherited from the proverbial long lost relative. I've been told it's just east of Falkreath. Only problem is, I have no bloody idea where that is. I'm not even sure I know which direction is east, to be completely honest with you. So, how much would it cost me hire your services as an escort?"

"Ah, for this most dangerous of missions I'd normally charge a fine fee of five hundred gold pieces. For you, however, I'll charge two hundred. But only because I like you."

Riley laughed, and finished the last of the mead in her bottle, raising her hand yet again, trying to get Sorex's attention. She was starting to think he was ignoring her on purpose.

"I appreciate the discount, Belrand, really I do. But even at such a bargain, I'm afraid I cannot afford your services. For I? I am a woman of meager possessions, and even more disturbing, meager mead. Did you know mead was so delicious? I had no idea. Sweet, though. Horribly sweet," she babbled, realizing that she wasn't making sense anymore. The bard started playing an upbeat tune, and Riley perked up considerably. "But you know what? That doesn't matter. Let's do something happy! I think we should dance!"

He looked like he was getting ready to protest, so she jumped up and grabbed his hands in hers. She noticed that they were rough and scarred, but they also seemed very strong and deft. Shooting a grin up at him, she wobbled a bit and dragged him to the middle of dining area. The bard smiled at them and started playing a gentle tune, glad to finally have people in the room interested in her songs.

* * *

Belrand still wasn't sure exactly how it had happened. One minute he'd been trying to drum up some business from the pretty little Breton - and yes, perhaps he was trying to flirt her up a bit - and the next she'd started babbling at him in the most charmingly drunk way. And now here they were, standing in the middle of the nearly deserted inn getting ready to dance.

Problem was, he'd never been a very coordinated dancer.

"Ah, Riley? I'm not very good at this."

"Are you serious?" She blinked up at him, laughter dancing around in those dark, pretty eyes of hers. He nodded, embarrassed, and she shrugged up at him.

"No matter, no matter. I'm willing to risk it if you are. Sometimes, you just have to take chances, you know?"

Then she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. Gods but her hair smelled good. Like a mixture of wildflowers and sunshine. As she rocked him gently around in a circle, he worked hard to avoid trampling her feet.

"I really 'preciate it, you know?" Her voice was muffled and slurred from the combination of mead and pressing her face into his armor.

"Appreciate what, dove?"

"That you'd have given me a discount, even though I can't afford it. That means a lot to me, someone being nice. You're the first person I've really talked to since I got here," she paused as she said this, heaving another big sigh and a hiccup. Then she resumed their gentle swaying.

He felt himself pulling her in a little tighter, in a protective gesture. "Don't you know anyone here?"

"I don't," she admitted.

"You're a long way from where you started, to be in a place like this by yourself."

"I was supposed to come here with my Da, but that didn't happen..."

He heard her voice hitch on the last few words, and couldn't stop his hand from reaching up to run his fingers through the hair at her neck. It was just as soft as he'd expected it to be. She snuggled in a little closer to him at the touch, and then he felt her start to weave.

"Oh dear," she said. "When did the room start spinning? I don't think I feel so good."

He had worried this would happen when she'd started chugging her drink. Going around in circles probably wasn't helping. He sighed, and led her over to a chair where he helped her prop herself mostly upright. She smiled weakly at him, looking a little green in the face.

"Sorex," he called. "Did she ever get a room from you?"

"She didn't, mate. And believe it or not, we're all full up!"

Belrand didn't believe it. He shot his friend a dirty look, but Sorex just stood there grinning like an idiot. He didn't have time to argue the matter, though, as he felt Riley begin sliding off the chair. He gathered her up in his arms before she had a chance to collapse onto the floor. Riley wrapped her arms around his neck, and laid her head on his shoulder. She let out a contented sigh that sent warm breath brushing across his ear, making him break out in gooseflesh. He shook his head against the thought trying to work its way in.

_Get a grip, man. She's completely sacked, and pretty helpless to boot. Even you aren't that big of a jackass._

He tightened his arms under her, and carried her up to the stairs to the room he rented. By the time he reached the bed she was snoring softly into his neck. He found himself smiling, despite the awkwardness of the situation. He laid her down and tucked the covers up around her, sitting next to the bed and watching her face for a moment. She was far too small and delicate to be wandering around Skyrim alone. It wasn't safe even at the best of times, but with the war going on she'd be risking her life, or worse.

He started to turn away to find some blankets to make a pallet on the floor for himself when her eyes fluttered open. They stared at each other for a moment, her dark eyes clouded by intoxication and exhaustion, and then she flopped her hand around until it landed on top of his. She gave him a weak smile.

"Mean it, Belrand. Really do 'preciate it. I think you're my only friend, now that Da has died," she whispered, and then promptly passed out.

_Shit, _he thought, gently pulling his hand out from under hers and rubbing it tiredly against his bearded chin. _Now I really am going to have to take her home._

Somehow, that notion didn't bother him nearly as much as he thought it should.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

**I actually plotted out the course of this entire story a couple of weeks ago, so now all that's left is the actual writing of it. I'm finding it's coming very easy most of the time, though I doubt I'll be posting anywhere close to daily. Shhh, don't tell anyone, but I'm supposed to be working.**

* * *

Riley found herself drifting toward consciousness, but her eyelids were putting up a good fight on her behalf. Her head was throbbing and it felt like she'd been sucking on day-old socks. It was most unpleasant. Physical discomfort ascertained, she began to feel a creeping sense of mental discomfort as it dawned on her that she well and truly had no idea where she was.

This… was not good.

Wherever she was, it was relatively quiet. She could hear a few voices coming from some distant, unknown location, and the smell of breakfast foods wafted around her. She didn't think it was possible for her stomach to growl and churn at the same time, but there it was. She cracked her eyes open just enough to take in her surroundings in the dull morning light. She remembered she was at the inn. The Blinking Shrieker, or something along those lines. She remembered drinking that hideously sweet mead the night before, after having very little to eat all day. She remembered dancing with Belrand, who she could see was sitting across the room at the little dining table, eating eggs and toast.

Riley sat up with a gasp. That was when she realized she was only wearing her thin slip, and quickly yanked the blankets up to her chin. She groaned as her brain knocked around her skull and her stomach did back flips. Belrand turned to her with a smile that managed to be non-threatening while still teasing.

_How does he do that? _ She wondered, as she continued to try and maintain her dignity in the face of so much personal misery.

"I, uh, don't drink very often," she explained, as if that weren't painfully obvious. His smile only turned into a grin, and she began to frown. "You wouldn't happen to know where my, ah, dress is, would you?"

"You got up in the middle of the night, took it off, and threw it at my head. You were muttering something about bears and snoring. I wasn't sure whether I should be insulted or flattered," he laughed as he got up. He walked over to a chair, grabbed her dress and brought it to her. "Honestly, dove, your virtue was never in any danger. I'm your knight, remember?"

"Mmhmm. In furry armor," she glanced over at the makeshift bed on the floor. "I must apologize for inconveniencing you so greatly. If you'll give me just a moment to dress, I'll see what I can do to compensate you for any trouble."

Belrand nodded and walked out the room. Riley quickly pulled herself into her clothes and noticed her small bag in the corner. Everything she had left in the world was in that bag, and it wasn't much. Still, she figured she'd at least be able to pay him back for the cost of the room, since she'd clearly put the man out of his own bed. Humiliated, but otherwise composed, she went over to the table and sat down, waiting for him to return.

"You should get some food in your system," he said, walking back into the room with another plate of food a few minutes later. "It'll be at least a couple days walk to Falkreath, and there won't be many places to stop and get a decent meal along the way."

"Walk to..." she sputtered, not really understanding. "I admit to being a bit out of sorts this morning, but I definitely recall being unable to afford your fees. You don't have to worry about me. I'll figure something out." Belrand sat down in the chair across from her, his knees just brushing her own. She blushed and pulled her legs in a little tighter. If he noticed, he had the good graces not to react.

"Here's the thing ," he said, picking his fork back up and taking another large bite of egg. Riley pursed her lips and willed herself not to feel sick. "I can't let you go off on your own, knowing the predicament you're in. You're in a country you've never been to before, you're more or less broke, and there's a civil war going on. I don't know what you were planning on doing with yourself once you arrived at this home of yours, but as it stands you couldn't possibly make it there in one piece alone."

Riley had more than her fair share of pride, but she wasn't stupid. She knew he was right. But, she'd never been a freeloader and wasn't about to become one today. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and forced herself to look him in the eyes. There was still something off about them, but damned if this place didn't subscribe to the tenets of poor lighting.

"I'm not going to argue with you, Belrand. It's obvious I'm in a fix and I _do _need help. But, I want you to know that I will pay you back. I just don't know when that will happen," she explained to him, her voice serious and calm. Belrand nodded and pushed the plate of breakfast towards her. She gingerly picked up a fork and took a bite. Her stomach complained for a moment, but finally settled. She sighed with relief. She vowed to herself she was never touching mead again.

"I'm not expecting anything from you, dove, so you do what you need to do once we get you where you need to be. In the meantime, do you think you have enough to buy us a few supplies for the road?" He asked, and when she nodded he continued. "Good. Then why don't you finish eating and getting your things together, and I'll go make a few purchases. We should be ready to head out in about an hour."

She walked over to her bag and pulled out her pouch of coins, its lightness causing yet another stab of worry in her. She handed it over to him and then watched as he walked out there room before sitting back down to her breakfast. Shaking her head, she made a conscious decision to not worry for a while. It wasn't doing her any good, wasn't solving any of her problems. Perhaps it would be best to just allow herself the luxury of letting Belrand take charge for a while. She had no idea why, but she trusted him to do right by her.

_Besides, _she thought with a small smile. _I really like it when he calls me 'dove.'_

* * *

Belrand made his way around the Solitude market purchasing bread and dried meats for their trek south. After he'd inspected the contents of her coin purse, he'd quickly set it aside and used his own money. He had no idea how she planned to support herself once she reached her destination and he didn't feel right spending what little she had. He intended to ask her about these things once they were on the road, though he knew it wasn't really any of his business. He had no idea how much she remembered from the previous evening, but he suspected she didn't realize she'd let slip news of her father's passing.

Hearing the distant rumble of thunder, he glanced up at the sky. The clouds were heavy and ominous, threatening to drop rain down at any moment. He considered suggesting they wait a day before making their start, but suspected Riley would want to get moving. He hoped they'd be able to make it to Rorikstead before nightfall, but if it started to rain in earnest, they may have to find a cave to hole up in. He wondered if Riley had ever slept on hard rock before.

Shaking his head, he started back towards the inn. He still wasn't sure what was motivating him to do this thing. It's not like he really had the money to spare, but then, he also hadn't been tripping over paying jobs of late. Either way, something about this just felt _right_. She clearly needed protecting and he felt that there was something pushing him to be the one to step up as her protector.

Besides, he had family in Helgen, less than a day away from where he suspected Riley's cottage was located. Distant, yes, but he knew they'd take him in for a while and give him an opportunity to work. Maybe being on the border to Cyrodiil there'd be more business for him to drum up. Things here in Solitude had clearly dried up, unless he decided to join the war effort, which was something he had no intention of doing. It was time to move on.

Quietly climbing the stairs, he stopped at the door to his room and watched her. Her back was to him and she didn't see him there as she hummed quietly to herself and sorted through the contents of her single pack. He'd been surprised last night to find she had so few possessions, but Sorex had insisted that was all she'd brought in with her. From the looks of it, the pack contained little more than bunches of flowers.

_Well, _he thought, _that explains why she smells so good. _He cleared his throat and she turned to him, stuffing the last of her flowers into her bag and smiling expectantly. He'd assumed she'd be fretting and worried when he came to gather her up for their journey, but clearly he'd figured wrong. Gods help him, she looked _excited_.

"Ready?"

She nodded at him and he stepped aside so she could get through the door. They exited the inn together and made their way towards the city gates. Rain was starting to sprinkle lightly, and for a moment he considered asking to postpone the trip again. But Riley showed no signs of concern over the inclement weather and as they left the confines of the city she paused for a moment to take a deep breath of fresh mountain air. He jumped a little when she let out a loud, unexpected whoop.

Looking a bit sheepish, she shot a grin at him and then stared off into the distance. "Sorry. It's just that this is…well, it's kind of like an adventure. I've always dreamed of having one, and now it feels like maybe I'm finally going to have lots of them." She reached out and quickly grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

Her grin was infectious and he felt his cheeks starting to ache as they began moving forward again. He noticed she walked with surprising confidence for someone with such a small stature, especially considering the troubles she faced. In fact, he'd almost go so far as to say that she walked with the swagger of a true Nord. He felt his smile growing even larger. Somehow, he figured, she'd make a life for herself here. And he was proud to know he was part of what was going to make it possible for her to do so.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

**I apologize if the pacing seems a bit slow, but this isn't really much of an action story. It's meant to show how these two characters came together, and how their relationship evolves over the course of a few days. I'm a big fan of the slow build up, personally, so that's what you'll be seeing here.**

**And, yes, three days in a row. I've caught the writing bug and am reveling in it.**

**Thanks again for reading!**

It didn't take Belrand long to realize that this journey might take a bit longer than he'd planned. It seemed to him that Riley was hell bent on stuffing every twig, weed, seed, flower and berry they passed into her satchel. He was pretty sure that she had even stuffed a mushroom and a couple of bird eggs in there, as well. One thing he was positive about; there was no way he was letting her cook any food for him. The thought of what it would be like to have someone like Riley to come home to in the evening started drifting through his head. Stew bubbling on the fire, little red-headed children running around underfoot...

_Whoa there, _he thought. _Where the hell is all this coming from?_ Despite being in his thirties, Belrand had never married, or even really come close. There'd just never seemed to be time to for it, what with him being gone for days or weeks, occasionally even months, at a time on jobs. Sure, he'd gotten to know plenty of beautiful women, but none of them had really seemed right to him. None of them had made him want to change his lifestyle for something more sedentary. The very thought of it made him shudder a little.

Willfully shoving daydreams of domestic life out of his head, he brought his focus back to Riley and his desire to find out more about what had brought her to Skyrim. "So, are you some sort of alchemist?"

She paused in her frantic, jumping attempts to catch a passing butterfly and looked back at him, smiling broadly. "Yes! As a matter of fact, I am," she replied, finally catching the insect and ripping off its wings. Belrand winced a bit and watched her stuff those in with the mushrooms and eggs. _Definitely no cooking for her._

"Potions, mainly," she continued to explain. "But I have occasionally dabbled with poisons. I don't really like making them, though. They tend to smell bad and are more likely to blow up in your face. Literally." Belrand found he was nodding as if he had personally experienced what she spoke of. Of course, he hadn't. Alchemy had never been an interest of his, other than using the occasional healing potion when he got wounded in a fight. Still, he was starting to put the pieces together.

"So, is that what you plan to do here? To support yourself, I mean," he asked.

She stopped scrabbling for ingredients, twirling the bunch of orange wildflowers she'd been amassing. He saw something flash across her eyes, pain and sadness, then she blinked and it was gone.

"It's all I know how to do, really. We… I had thought that perhaps with the war going on, health potions and the like would be in greater demand," she answered, fidgeting with her bouquet before shoving it in her sack with everything else. It was clearly hard for her to talk about, and Belrand almost felt bad for asking. Nevertheless, he found his curiosity rising.

"I'm not meaning to pry, dove, but do you want to talk about it? I, ah, don't know if you remember, but you told me that your father had passed on…"

She looked surprised for a moment, and then smirked wryly, "That mead is dangerous stuff, isn't it?" He laughed and nodded at her, before she continued. "There isn't much to talk about, really. Da, well, he was a good man, but not a very practical one. We'd been on the brink of losing our house for unpaid taxes when he received word about this cottage in Skyrim a cousin had bequeathed him. Why him, I'll never know. He'd never spoken of this relative before, never spoken of any relatives, really."

"What about your mother and her family?"

"Mama died when I was just a baby," she paused, taking in his expression. "It's ok! I don't remember her. It's hard to miss someone you don't remember. But there it is, all the same. That's where my name came from. It was her favorite flower."

"It's a beautiful name," he said, and she winced, shaking her head. He laughed before continuing. "Did you have no one else though? What about her family?"

"Da was all I had, and I was all he had. He never really told me much about Mama's family, only that they'd never gotten along. I have nothing to really base this on, but I suspect her family didn't approve of their marriage. Daggerfall is always so full of court intrigue, it makes me wonder."

"Ah, yes. You Bretons and your intrigue," he teased, feeling something twist in his chest when she looked him straight in the eyes and smiled.

"You Nords and your furs," she countered, laughing when he self-consciously ran a hand down the front of his armor.

"Yes, we're quite proud of them, as well as our mead," he snickered when she shuddered. They settled into a comfortable silence as they traveled, soon passing through the settlement of Dragon Bridge. Belrand protested, but Riley insisted they stop for some lunch at the Four Shields Tavern before continuing.

"I know you didn't use my money this morning. I… I understand why you didn't, but I still don't feel right about it. I'm supposed to be paying you, not you paying for me. Let me at least buy us something decent to eat, while we have the chance," she argued. He gave in, knowing there was nothing else between here and the village of Rorikstead, and it had become clear they would not be reaching it until very late. She picked a table to wait for their food, and he settled in across from her.

"Do you want to talk about it some more? What happened to your father, I mean," he asked, hoping she wouldn't find the question rude, or think him to be overly prying. The truth was, the more he learned about her, the more he found he wanted to know. There was something about her… he couldn't put his finger on it, but something told him she was special. Whether that specialness was general or that she was special to _him_, well, he didn't want to think on that too much. They'd be parting ways in another day or so, there was no sense in getting attached.

_As if she were just some stray you happened to pick up on the side of the road, _he thought. _Is that how you think it is? You're a fool, Belrand. A bloody fool._

* * *

Riley was surprised to find him so interested in her circumstances. While her experience with mercenaries was admittedly limited – limited to Belrand, in point of fact – she'd always imagined them to be aloof protectors, out to make gold and not friends. But, she discovered she was glad for the opportunity to talk about it.

"There really isn't that much to say," she sighed, before continuing. "When he found out about this house, he was convinced it was the solution to all our problems. There was no way we were going to be able to pull the tax money together to keep our home, so he just embraced this idea and ran with it," she paused as the innkeeper brought sandwiches and drinks to their table. She saw Belrand eye her glass of milk, and could see he was barely repressing the urge to laugh at her. She glared at him, but started laughing herself at his mock attempt at a serious face.

"Here in Skyrim we have a name for you people who can't hold your liquor," he explained. She raised an eyebrow at him, so he continued. "We call you, ah, milk-drinkers."

Riley burst out laughing. "Fair enough, I suppose. Honestly, though, how do you stand the stuff? It's cloyingly sweet."

"It's an acquired taste, I guess. Though, to be honest with you I'm more of an ale man myself," Belrand shrugged at her, and began digging into his lunch. He raised his eyes to hers, indicating he was still listening.

"Well, we had some time before our house was going to be taken, so he decided to use it selling off what we wouldn't be able to bring with us, which was just about everything in the end, and going out foraging. That was something Da always did; collecting my reagents and ingredients. Then I'd make the potions and he'd take them to market. Sometimes I'd go with him, but usually not," she elaborated.

"Anyway, it was during one of these foraging ventures that he took ill. He'd been complaining of being tired a few weeks prior, but it hadn't been anything major. But, during this particular trip out we had a cold snap, and whatever he'd been fighting off… well, I think it went into his lungs. I tried everything to make him better, but it just kept getting worse. He passed on a month later."

Riley had promised herself she wasn't going to cry about it anymore, but felt the tears starting to burn in her eyes, threatening to spill. Belrand didn't say anything, but reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb brushing over her fingers in a gesture of comfort. She took a deep breath, and kept going.

"I used most of what he'd saved for our trip to bury him. When they came to take possession of the house a few weeks later, I guess I just decided the hell with it. What did I have to lose, really? I had enough to get here, and I figured I'd work things out from there. So, here I am. Sitting here with you, drinking my milk," she let out a shaky breath and smiled at him. She realized he was still stroking her fingers, and carefully pulled her hand away and started to eat her sandwich. He brought his attention back to his own food, and the two continued to eat in silence.

_Careful, Riley. Don't read anything into it that just isn't there. He's nice, he's handsome, and he seems like he's very caring, but this is just a job for him, _she told herself.

"So," Belrand started, after they had finished eating and had been back on the road a while, "do you mind me asking a personal question? Well, I suppose I've been asking plenty of those already, haven't I?" Riley laughed, and gestured for him to continue. "Well, I'm wondering how old you are."

"Twenty-five, just this past month. Why?"

"No real reason, I guess. You look young, but you don't act it, so I was curious," he explained, and she rewarded him with a smile. He cleared his throat and continued. "How is it that you're not married?"

"I guess I just never thought about it," she laughed. "Well, that isn't true. Of course I thought about it, don't most girls?" He just shrugged, so she continued. "I suppose I just never had the opportunity to meet anyone special. I honestly didn't get out very much. Da was pretty protective of me, almost claustrophobically so. Honestly, one of the things I was most excited about moving here was the hope that it would finally give me a chance to get out on my own more. Meet people, learn new things. Kind of silly, I guess. What about you?"

"Oh, I meet plenty of new people, and I usually learn something new every day," he answered, grinning at her. She grinned back, but playfully swatted at his shoulder.

"That isn't what I meant, and you know it. How old are you? Why aren't _you_ married? Or… are you married?" She was surprised at how much the idea that he could be stung. She knew it shouldn't matter to her, but it did.

"No, I'm not married. And I'm thirty-six, a ripe old man to someone as young and pretty as you. See? You can even find gray in my hair if you look close enough," he teased, bending over to shove his head in her face. She laughed and pushed him away, relieved. "Never really had reason to think about it, though. This line of work, it keeps a man busy. I don't suppose that I'd make a very good husband, even if I were inclined."

"Oh, I don't know about that," she replied, feeling a hot blush sweep across her cheeks when he stopped in his tracks and looked at her intently. "I mean, you're just… well, you're very sweet and...really protective…and…" she trailed off, thankful for the big boom of thunder that came rolling over them, saving her from her own embarrassing babble. The rain, which had never let up its soft sprinkle, began coming down harder. Belrand looked away from her and into the distance. She followed his gaze, and saw a dilapidated looking hut built on a fenced in hill.

"I need you to wait here on the road while I go take a peek," he explained to her.

"Are you sure? Maybe I should go with…"

"No," he cut her off. "This is why I'm here. There could be bandits in there. I'm just going to go check things out and see if it's safe." She chewed her lip and frowned, and he must have caught her worried expression, as he rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It'll be fine, I promise. I don't think the rain is going to ease up anytime soon, though, and this could be a good place to wait it out," he explained. She nodded, and let him go.

Standing there with her arms wrapped around her shoulders, she watched him head towards the encampment. She shivered as the cold rain picked up in intensity, blurring her view of him. Before long, she had lost sight of him completely. Trying not to panic, she tapped her feet and started humming a tune to calm herself.

"Well now, Toralf, what have we got here?" She spun in shock as she heard the deep, gravelly voice. Fear shot through her limbs when she saw the two bandits that had come up behind her. Mean eyes peered out at her from heavily scarred faces.

"I'm not sure, Daglin. It's singing like a bird, but it sure looks like a woman to me," he replied to his partner, his voice dripping with menace as he leered suggestively at her, revealing black and rotting teeth. "Why don't we pluck its feathers and see what it has underneath?"

Riley decided she wasn't going to wait around for them to decide what they wanted to do to her. Taking off in the direction of the hut, she made it off the road and then began slipping and sliding on the mud that was fast accumulating. _Oh gods, _she thought frantically. _Please don't let this be how I die. _Opening her mouth she let out a scream, high pitched and loud.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N the First:**

**This chapter is a little on the short side, but I really struggled with the first half of it. When I first set out to write this, I planned for it to be a very light story, but clearly my brain had other ideas. Angst! THERE MUST BE ANGST! But not too much, because fluffy bunnies.**

**We're finally hitting a point where the M rating is warranted, and I have to warn that the beginning of this entry might contain triggers. Proceed with caution if this is something that might be problematic for you.**

* * *

She couldn't see anything in front of her, only an endless sheet of rain. Desperately trying to find traction in the slick mud, she went down to her knees, clawing her way through the mud. She felt strong, cruel fingers dig into her ankle as she was pulled backwards on her stomach. Rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders and flipped her over as the bandit sat on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

"NO!" She shrieked, trying desperately to pull away from him, but he only laughed maliciously as he ripped the front of her dress open, tearing it down to her waist. "Well, well," he sneered. "It's not nice to try and hide these lovelies from your friends, now is it?" Riley choked back the nausea when he brought down his head and violently bit her breast, white hot pain flaring through her chest. When he raised his head to leer at her, she saw her blood on his lips.

"Hurry up," the second bandit urged as he lifted himself up off of her legs to shove her skirt up around her waist. "I couldn't see if she was with anyone." Riley bucked and kicked, trying to knock him off of her, but she was too small and he was determined. She felt a hand sliding up her leg to her smallclothes, and let out another scream as he started to yank them down to her knees. He roughly shoved his other hand over her mouth to silence her and, acting on instinct alone, she sank her teeth into his filthy flesh. The coppery tang of blood blossomed on her tongue.

"Bitch!" He slapped her hard across the face, causing her vision to swim. He hit her again repeatedly, harder and harder, and her eyes rolled back into her head. She could feel consciousness slipping away from her, hard hands still pulling and pushing and punching.

As blackness descended over her, her attacker's head went up in flames.

* * *

Belrand had already started back towards the road, having determined the camp was empty, when he heard Riley's cries pierce the air. Unsheathing his sword he broke out in a run, years of practice helping him to nimbly keep his balance as he plowed through the muck. As he raced towards her screams, a break in the rain allowed the scene before him to unveil. Riley was on her back with a large man sitting astride her, another standing behind him. To his horror, he watched the first bandit raise a fist and bring it down on Riley's face.

Bellowing in rage, he pulled from deep within himself and sent a fireball rocketing towards her attacker. The man screamed as he stood and stumbled backwards, finally sinking to the ground as his hair and face burned brightly despite the pounding rain. The second attacker began scrambling for his weapon, panic making him clumsy and slow, but it was too late. Plunging his sword into the bandit's belly, Belrand sent him staggering backwards with a kick to the knee. Yanking his sword back out and whipping around in a deadly circle, he separated head from neck.

Satisfied that the immediate danger to Riley was gone, he turned and sank down to his knees next to her. Her face was already beginning to bruise and blood was running from her nose and the corner of her mouth, but she was breathing steadily. Her clothes were ruined, torn and singed from where flames had fallen from the bandit, and multiple scratches ran down her arms and legs.

_And her breast, dear gods..._ _this is all your fault_, _Belrand!_ _You never should have left her alone. You know better!_

Hands shaking violently, he covered her up as best he could and gathered her tight against his chest. He made his way to the shack, cursing under his breath at the way she hung limp in his arms. It was damp inside, but the leaking from the roof seemed to be minimal. There was a small, dirty bed shoved roughly against a corner, which he placed her on and then set about starting a fire to provide some warmth and light. Satisfied that the fire would take, he noticed a lantern in the corner and lit it. Bringing it over to the bed, he pulled up a stool and sat down to take a closer look at her injuries.

"Thank the Nine you bothered to learn some healing magic, because you sure as hell need it now," he whispered to himself. He knew her wounds would heal on their own given time, but he refused to let her walk around this way if he could help it. He couldn't bear the idea of her face keeping those black bruises, or her beautiful smile being marred by split lips. Of her body bearing those bites and scratches as a reminder of what had almost happened.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he brought his trembling hands to her face. Closing his eyes, he focused his thoughts inwards to the magic he carried deep within. Feeling the warmth begin to radiate from his limbs onto her face, he let his breath go, opening his eyes. Golden light swirled around her head, growing stronger and brighter. He watched as her lips began to mend, the bruises slowly fading away, and ran his thumb gently along her chin.

"Come on, love. Come back to me," he whispered, breaking the connection to brush her damp hair away from her forehead. Her eyes began to flutter open, unfocused at first but quickly gaining lucidity. He started to shake again, relief flooding through him fast and hard.

"Belrand?" She looked so soft and frail as she whispered his name, he felt his heart leap up into his throat and then crash back down again, breaking into a million jagged pieces.

Slowly, she raised her hand and caressed his cheek. Without thinking, he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to her forehead, breathing her in deeply. "Oh, Riley," he gasped, choking back tears. "Oh, my girl. I am _so_ sorry."

* * *

Riley leaned forward, allowing Belrand to stuff some pillows behind her back, making it easier for her to sit up. Holding the tattered edges of her dress together, she winced as her fingers brushed against the throbbing bite mark on her chest. Eyes narrowing at her expression, Belrand turned to the pail of rainwater he'd set over the fire and pulled a hot cloth out of it. Retrieving a blanket from his pack, he brought both items back to her side.

"The scratches on your arms and legs," he explained, "they aren't so bad. But your chest needs attention."

Riley nodded and shuddered. She was well versed in the treatment of bites, her Da often coming home bitten by some wild thing or another, but without access to an alchemy lab she had no way to make a potion to help herself heal. If something wasn't done soon it would likely become infected, and then she'd really be in a world of pain. "What about your magic," she asked, blushing at what that would entail. "Couldn't you heal it?"

"Aye, I could. But I wanted to ask you first. I didn't know how comfortable you'd be with it after..." He trailed off, gesturing towards the door. Riley sighed, understanding. She knew he felt guilty, he'd apologized to her so many times she was ready to stuff a rag in his mouth to shut him up. She'd tried to convince him that he wasn't responsible, but he didn't seem to be able to bring himself to believe it.

"It has to be done. I trust you," she whispered, trying to catch his eye. The shame on his face was unmistakable, and he quickly looked away. Sitting back down on the stool, he handed her the wet washcloth indicating she should clean herself with it. When she pulled open her dress, he winced and looked away from the angry, weeping wound. Carefully, she wiped away as much blood as she could, giving a clear view of the mark itself. It was bad.

Leaning back again, she exhaled the breath she'd been holding and waited for him to turn his attention back to her. He did, anguished eyes coming to rest on her injury. She watched his mouth purse and his jaw tighten.

"I'd kill that son of a bitch twice, if I had the chance," he murmured, and brought his hands to hover above her chest. He met her eyes briefly, seeking permission one last time. She nodded and they both looked down to watch as his hands began to glow with the soft gold light. It swirled around his fingers and down to her breast, where it began to circle around and around the bite, the mark growing smaller with each pass.

As the wound faded away, she felt a warm throbbing begin in her chest and travel down to her stomach. The golden light around his hands began to pulse, growing brighter and bringing stronger sensation each time, causing her nipples to pucker. She gasped and arched her back, thrusting her breast into Belrand's hand. Startled, he raked his gaze from the light encompassing her body and brought his eyes to hers, but did not break their connection. The golden glow showed his face in stark relief and, suddenly feeling euphoric, she laughed.

"They're beautiful," she whispered, bringing her hand back to his face. The feel of him on her breast made her stomach twist in strange, wonderful ways, and she fought back the giggles she felt rising in her throat. She could read the confusion in his eyes, and ran her finger across his eyebrow.

"Your eyes," she breathed softly, and brought her hand down his cheek to the back of his neck, wrapping her fingers in his hair. She watched him swallow hard, throat bobbing. "They're two different colors."

She pulled him forward, her mouth seeking his in a desperate kiss.

* * *

**A/N the Second:**

**I know. I am a horrible tease.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

**Some very light smut in this chapter. Nothing major.**

* * *

Her mouth was insistent, moving against his and alternating between soft caresses and hard demands. He didn't think he was breathing anymore, he had been taken so completely by surprise. He thought for a moment that he should put a stop to this, that it wasn't right given what had taken place less than an hour ago, but she tasted sweet. So, so sweet.

Groaning against her lips, he felt her tongue dart inquisitively into his mouth. Almost shyly, he met it with his own, reveling in her warmth. Her breast was still pressed against hand and he began to gently caress her, slowly running his thumb around her nipple. She was so beautiful, so responsive as she arched even further into his touch. He heard her low moan and felt a surge of pride. _I'm doing this to her, _he thought. _I'm making her feel this way._

He pulled away gently, feeling her hand tighten in his hair. He chuckled softly as her eyes opened and she pouted at him, looking for all the world like a petulant child whose favorite toy had been taken away. Carefully, he bent his lips to her breast, taking her in his mouth and replacing the motion of his thumb with his tongue. She gasped and her grip on his hair continued to tighten. Bringing his free hand to her other breast, he rolled her nipple between his fingers, gently tugging.

"Belrand," she whimpered, throwing her head back. "What…ah…what…"

Releasing her from his mouth he blew softly on the damp flesh, smiling as it broke out in goose bumps. Raising his head he found her staring at him, eyes bright and skin flushed. She looked…wanton. His pants grew uncomfortably tight as he bent back down and gave her nipple another experimental tug, this time with his teeth. She responded by panting and mewling out his name again.

"Do you like that?" He knew the answer, but he asked it all the same. She nodded and yanked his hair, pulling his mouth back up to hers. He carefully bit on her lower lip, and was rewarded with another moan.

"I didn't know," she sighed, trying to pull him onto the bed with her. A small spark of clarity began to work its way through the cloud of lust that was fogging his brain, and he resisted the urge to press himself down on her.

"Didn't know what, dove?"

"That this is how it would feel," she murmured, her eyes beginning to droop as the exhaustion of her ordeal finally caught up with her. Belrand felt a shot of ice travel down his spine.

"How what would feel? Riley? Wake up, sweetheart," he pleaded, watching her eyes flutter open and closed. She smiled sleepily at him, gently kneading the back of his neck.

"Kissing. Touching. This… what I think we're going to do. Sleepy, though. So sleepy," she whispered and yawned. Her eyes opened and closed a few more times before finally shutting for good, and her breathing slowed as she fell into a deep sleep.

"Ah, shit…" he muttered as he stood up and paced across the room. Was it possible? Even if it never got serious, didn't everyone mess around a bit before settling down? In truth, he really didn't know what was normal for respectable young women in High Rock, or anywhere else for that matter. His experiences had always been casual, a tavern maid here or a lonely widow there. He'd never lain with a woman who had meant anything to him, or he to her. His throat tightened as he looked across the room at Riley, smiling peacefully in her sleep. Here was someone he felt he was finally starting to care for, and what did he do? He almost got her killed.

_And then you went and tried to molest her, just like those useless sacks of skeever shit outside, _he berated himself. Never mind that she had been the one to initiate the kiss, he should have known better. She'd told him that her father had sheltered her and that she'd never had a relationship. She was injured, probably in shock or concussed. She obviously had no idea what she was doing, but he did. And he'd have probably taken it too far if she hadn't passed out on him.

He shuddered and scavenged to make a place for himself to sleep. He had no right to touch her that way. She was far too precious for someone like him.

* * *

The bright sun streaming through the slats in the roof finally brought Riley out of her slumber. Stretching out in the bed, she decided that, despite a slight headache, she'd never felt quite so… _alive… _before. Whatever that magic was, it was incredible. Smiling, she turned her attention to the light snoring coming from the floor across the room. Belrand was curled up on an uncomfortable looking stack of furs, sunlight playing on his face and turning his hair a brilliant shade of red.

The way he had kissed her last night... or she had kissed him, if she was going to be honest with herself. She blushed furiously when she thought back on how brazen she had been, but she found it difficult to feel any shame. Brushing her fingers over her lips, she could clearly remember the feel of his beard scraping against her chin as his tongue danced with hers. The way his calloused hands had felt against her breasts. She looked down with a soft, shocked giggle when her nipples started to harden.

"Belrand," she whispered as she clutched the tattered pieces of her dress together, but he continued to snore. She looked around the room and finally spotted her pack resting on a rotted wooden table. She wobbled slightly as she made her way across the room, but kept her balance. Nibbling on the petals of a few mountain flowers to help her headache, she pulled a clean dress out and quickly changed. Turning back to the bed, she found Belrand's now thoroughly awake gaze resting on her.

"Good morning," she said shyly, feeling a hot blush spread across her cheeks. Had he watched her change, she wondered? Her stomach fluttered and she blushed harder with the knowledge that she hoped he had. But that fluttering quickly turned sour when she saw a stony, guarded look come over his face.

"Is something wrong?" She asked nervously, twisting her hands together. He gave her a blank stare for several uncomfortable seconds before he shook his head, and raised to his feet to walk to the door. Riley was crushed. Had she said something wrong last night? Done something to offend him? She started to reach out her hand to touch his back, but pulled back when he turned back to her with an emotionless expression. Something was not right.

"Come on," he said. "The rain's let up and we aren't too far from Rorikstead. We should be able to make it in a few hours, and I don't expect there will be any bandit camps between here and there." She winced at the memory of what had almost come to pass yesterday, but nodded to him as she moved to gather her things. He said nothing and she hurried to follow him out the door and back onto the road.

They traveled in silence for over an hour before Riley finally snapped. "Belrand? Is something the matter?"

"No," he answered, but his voice was curt and it felt like a punch to her heart. Quietly she moved towards him and grabbed his hand, unable to hold back a small cry when he yanked it back away from her as though she had burned him.

"I don't..." She choked a little on the words, her throat growing painfully tight. "Did I do something wrong, Belrand? Last night? I... I'm sorry if I did."

At last the cold melted away from his features and he looked at her with eyes so sad she thought her heart might break then and there. "No, dove. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just exhausted from everything that happened yesterday. Let's get to Rorikstead so we can stop for a while and get a decent rest, ok?" There was a pleading note to his voice, and she didn't understand how things had gotten so turned around. She nodded though, realizing she'd get nothing more out of him for now.

They passed the next hours in total silence, Riley feeling more and more ill as they went. When the tiny village finally came into view she experienced a little relief. Perhaps taking some time to eat and rest would help Belrand figure out how to work through whatever was bothering him. Entering the inn, she took a seat and waited as he went to the counter to work out an arrangement with the innkeeper. She watched him stop to have a conversation with a young man in farming coveralls sitting in a corner, nodding a few times before heading back towards her.

"You should be getting your food here shortly," he explained without sitting down. Turning, she looked up at him and found the guarded expression back on his face.

"Aren't you going to eat?" She asked, feeling a stab of fear in her gut.

"I've got plenty of supplies in my pack, and I'll...restock before we leave in the morning," his voice caught and for a moment the haunted look returned to his eyes. "I want to scout ahead. Falkreath isn't too far from here, but there could be a few camps between here and there. After what happened, I'd feel better going out by myself and trying to take care of them before I bring you through."

"How long will you be?"

"Ah, I shouldn't be too long, but I wouldn't wait up for me. I rented a couple of rooms for us, and you need to get some rest. The magic...it can sometimes make you feel better than you really are. I don't want you to overdo it, you had a pretty severe head injury. Do you have anything in there you could take to help you sleep?" He asked, indicating her pack. She nodded at him, feeling the weight in her chest grow heavier.

"I do. And here, I want you to take this with you. It was Mama's..." reaching inside she pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with an amaryllis flower. She wrapped up a selection of petals for him before handing the cloth to him. He hesitated before he finally took it, looking down at the gift with a rueful smile. For a moment, she felt a small sliver of relief, but the smile faded as he raised his eyes back to hers.

"Those won't do much if you get a badly injured, so don't," she explained. "But they should help alleviate some of your tiredness. Please...be safe."

He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, and she tilted her face into his palm. His expression remained sad, so incredibly sad. He pulled his hand back and cleared his throat. "I will. Remember, get some rest. Tomorrow will likely be difficult and long."

Riley felt a tear roll down her cheek as he turned and walked away from her, not looking back even once as he passed through the inn door. Chiding herself for being a foolish girl, she swiped it away and turned her attention back to the table. The young man she had seen Belrand talking with was approaching with a tray of food.

"Hi there! My name's Erik," he exclaimed, a little over eager. Riley winced a bit, but managed to work up a smile for him. Jostling her on the elbow, he placed her food down in front of her then stood there while she started to eat. Faintly annoyed, she shot a look up at him as she chewed.

"Did you know I'm going to be a mercenary?" When she shook her head he continued. "Yep. I think I'll call myself... Erik the Slayer."

_Well, _she thought, _this is going to be an incredibly long evening._

* * *

She shot up in bed the next morning, shaking and sweating from a dream. Something about Belrand. Roaring and claws and teeth. Blood. So much blood.

Letting out a shaky sigh, she leaned back against the wall. After hours of waiting for him to return the night before, she had finally given up and gone to bed. She felt like she must have tossed and turned for hours, and now her eyes felt gritty and burned painfully. She sat quietly, rubbing them and waiting for her vision to clear. She noticed the blurry outline of a flower on the dresser against the opposite wall. Squinting, the image cleared. An amaryllis.

Leaping out of the bed and across the room, she grabbed the note she saw folded next to the vase. Fingers trembling, she opened it up and began to read under her breath. Reaching the end, she dropped down to her knees with a soft cry. The note tumbled from her fingers to the floor.

_Dove,_

_Things should be clear for you from here to Falkreath. I was able to acquire a couple of horses to make the journey go faster today. Once you get there, be sure to talk to Zaria at Grave Concoctions. She's the local alchemist and should be able to help you get on your feet. _

_I located your cottage and it's not far from town. It's beautiful, Riley. I think you'll be very happy there. My only regret is that I will not be there to see your face when you look on it for the first time._

_Erik, the innkeepers son, has graciously agreed to take you the rest of the way. I think you'll find that he is a very nice young man. He seems to have grand ideas of being an adventurer, but it's my understanding that he has been farming for many years. He may have good advice for you regarding the local flora for your potions._

_I don't know how to express to you just how sorry I am for what happened. I made a grave error in judgment when I left you alone on that road, and I don't know that I will ever forgive myself. That something so horrifying should happen to you while under my protection is inexcusable. _

_Know that I regret parting ways with you like this but, under the circumstances, I feel that it is for the best. I wish only wonderful things for you, Riley, and hope that you have a beautiful life._

_Yours, always..._

_Bel_

* * *

**A/N:**

**And I thought the last chapter was hard to write? Belrand, you idiot. I think you just broke **_**my**_** heart.**


	6. Chapter 6

It had been six months since he'd left her at the Frostfruit Inn. Six months since he'd heard her laughter or had her smile up at him. Six months of waking up at night feeling that horrible sense of loss. For the longest time he tried to wrap his head around how she'd gotten under his skin so gods damned fast, tried to figure out how to claw her out, but then he stopped and accepted it for it was. Accepted that he had made an unforgivable mistake, and tried to move on.

"Yes, Belrand. Obviously, this is you moving on," he muttered to himself, using his sword to hack away the hedge blocking the entrance to the wolf den. It was empty, didn't look like it had been used in quite some time. He must have either killed the residents or scared them into moving on. Sighing, he lowered the point of his sword into the ground and leaned lightly on the hilt, shoving his hair out of his face. The clearing was just that. Clear.

When he'd left her that night, he'd ridden his horse like hell was at his heels straight to Helgen. His family had taken him in, as he'd known they would, and he'd been able to find work helping the local blacksmith. It felt odd to him, taking such a different path in life, but he'd worked as an apprentice in his youth and found that he remembered much of it.

He'd never thought of himself as the kind of person who could be happy staying in one place and, to be honest, he wasn't really. But, it put gold in his pocket and freed him up to do this; keeping the areas he knew Riley frequently searched for reagents free of danger. It helped ease his mind a little, knowing he was in some small way still protecting her. It wasn't enough, he didn't think he could ever do enough, but it was something. It helped him sleep a little better at night.

Hearing a twig snap and movement through the brush, he quickly ducked into the den and peered out from the overgrowth. Someone was approaching the clearing from the woods, still hidden by trees and afternoon shadows. Belrand steadied his breath and raised his sword, prepared to surprise and overtake any unwelcome visitor. He inhaled sharply as a short, blonde figure entered through an opening in the low hanging branches. _Riley, _he thought, and felt his heart twist in his chest.

He'd worked hard to avoid her when doing these runs, and had not laid eyes on her since leaving her the flower and that horrible note. He thought it best that she didn't know what he was doing, that she didn't see him. He told himself that's what it was about, but he knew the truth. He was afraid of how much it would hurt if he saw her again, and now, standing here with her just across the way, he knew just how justified those fears were.

It felt like a dagger had lodged in his heart.

He must have moved, or made some other noise, because her head darted up and she looked around the clearing alertly. He pulled himself deeper in the shadows and watched her eyes, so obviously dark even at this distance, rove over the space he occupied before finally moving on. She hadn't seen him, he was positive of that, but something on her face seemed...

_She knows. Somehow, she feels me here._

His mouth went dry at the thought, and he wearily acknowledged that every fiber of his being was locked tight with the desire for it to be true. But her eyes soon lowered and he watched her quietly go about gathering the wildflowers that grew so abundantly in the area. She neared his hiding space for a moment, stopping to gather something she found especially important.

"There you are, you silly thing," she muttered. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

It seemed that a rock had formed in his throat and his eyes began to burn. Hearing those words, words he'd dreamed her saying so many times, was like dying a thousand little deaths.

* * *

Finding those hawk feathers was the highlight of her week. She'd been searching for ages, needing them to finish the last few vials in an order for Zaria in Falkreath. The woman had done more than help Riley get on her feet. She'd proven to be a good friend and her best client. Zaria insisted it was because the quality of Riley's wares were perfect, but Riley suspected it had more to do with an overly kind heart and strong mothering instincts.

It had been...difficult. That note had done so many things to her at once, and it had taken her a long time to process it all. That the abandonment had hurt as much as it did was a sobering thought. She still did not understand how he had become so important so quickly, but his actions had felt like a betrayal, and she had struggled to work past those feelings. It still hurt if she allowed herself to dwell on it, so she did her best not to. It was a futile endeavor.

She headed back for her cottage, eager to lose herself in work. She stopped periodically to scan the area, feeling like someone was watching her, but could not locate the source of her unease. Shrugging it off, she headed up the path to her front porch. Noticing her door slightly ajar she paused for a moment. Was Erik supposed to visit today? It had been a few weeks since she'd last seen him. He was sweet, considerate, and would occasionally bring her exotic finds from his "adventures," but he wasn't for her. He'd been very understanding when she'd finally laid it out for him, gods knew he was almost as dense as he was persistent, but she knew he'd realized they'd make a terrible match as well as she. He'd been a good friend since then, and had taken to stopping in periodically to see if she needed help with upkeep of the cottage.

Entering the front room, dim in the fading light, she set her basket down and removed her shawl. Grabbing the feathers resting on top she made her way back to her alchemy lab, anxious to get started. Grabbing a heavy tome off her desk, she went to double check she had everything she needed. When the floorboard creaked behind her, she spun around in surprise.

"Erik?" She whispered, trying to make out the figure standing in the shadows.

The laugh that came out at her was the most malevolent sound she'd ever heard. The face that emerged from the darkness was hideously deformed, ravaged and covered in a thick layer of scar tissue, no signs of hair anywhere to be seen. Open sores oozed pus and she could smell the infection from where she stood. The eyes, shining with unmistakable hatred, were horrifyingly familiar. The dagger in his hand looked unforgivably sharp.

"Remember me, peach?" He leered, and the voice make her knees go weak and bile rise in her throat. She remembered. She would never forget the sight of her blood on those ragged lips. He moved forward, and she pressed herself against the wall, eyes darting frantically towards the door. There was no way to get past him. She was trapped. His low pitched laughter held dark promise, and he brandished the knife in her face. "That's right, fear the monster. Fear the pain you know he's bringing you."

He pulled out a vial of viscous fluid and she winced as he tilted it and poured the contents over his blade. It dribbled over the sides and sizzled when it hit the floor next to her feet. His laughter grew darker and he leered at the scream she let loose. "No one to hear you out here, girl. You've made yourself so accessible, a man might get the idea you're trying to flirt."

"See this?" He brought the point of his blade right next to her eye, the fluids dangerously close to dripping off the edges. Satisfied he had her undivided attention, he continued. "I had this made special, just for you. I'm going to carve that pretty little face of yours all up, and it's going to burn like fire. You're going to be begging me to kill you, but I won't. Not for a long, long time," he snarled.

Screaming again, she took the only weapon she had at her disposal, her alchemy book, and shoved it into his face. He hadn't been expecting the attack and she was able to knock him off balance for just a moment. It gave her a small opening to screw up all her stretch and drive her knee into his crotch, sending him howling to the ground. She made a mad dash for the door, feeling his fingers snagging in her skirt as he shot unintelligible curses at her. Looking over her shoulder, she could feel the hate radiating from him as he rose back to his feet. She stumbled and cried out as she felt herself beginning to fall.

"I've always wanted the chance to kill you again," a familiar voice growled out from behind her. Two strong arms suddenly wrapped around her waist. Belrand! Riley's heart flew into her throat and her knees gave out as he carefully moved her behind him, using his body to shield her.

"You didn't kill me the first time," goaded the bandit. "Thank you, for making this moment all the sweeter." He lunged forward, but Belrand easily grabbed him by the arm and swung him out and away from Riley. She watched in horror as he crashed into the bookcase where she stored her potions. Bottles cascaded to the ground, shattered glass flying everywhere.

Belrand lunged forward with his sword, driving it through the attacker's chest. The bandit looked past him to Riley, blood bubbling up on his lips, still maintaining his horrible, hateful grin. "Not alone," he whispered, and rammed the dagger into Belrand's stomach. Chortling with unmasked evil, he slumped over the sword, dead. Belrand clutched at the dagger, pulling it out of his belly, and then collapsed to the floor. Riley ran to his side, frantically grabbing his hand in hers.

"Safe," he sighed as he raised his resigned eyes to hers, and began writhing in pain as the poison took over. Moaning in panic, Riley looked to the ground where all of her stock had crashed. There had to be something still there. _There had to be._

"You don't get to die on me now, you unbelievable bastard," she shouted at him as she desperately pawed through the broken glass. She knew the gods must be smiling down on her that day, for she found unharmed bottles in the box she had filled earlier and set on the ground. The poison curatives she'd been making for Zaria. Next to those, she found a vial of healing draught that only cracked, spilling a fraction of its contents on the floor. Hopefully, the remains would be enough.

"You have to be still," she begged him, and he dragged his eyes open and locked them on hers. She saw an almost imperceptible nod as his face grew paler, and he squeezed his eyes shut again and worked to calm his movements. She raised the antidote to his lips, and blew out the breath she'd been holding as he let her dribble it down his throat. Grabbing the healing potion, she fed him half of it, and poured the rest in the wound itself after cutting the front of his armor away. It was bad, but the cut itself didn't appear to be life threatening.

She sat back to wait, the color slowly returning to his face, though he maintained a heavy pallor. The wound stopped bleeding, and his pained twitching gradually ceased. Riley retrieved some gauze and tape, and did her best to wrap him up tight, thought she knew it would likely require stitches. Zaria had training as a physician, but she wouldn't leave for Falkreath until she knew he was safe. Finally, his breathing became even and he opened his eyes. She stared into them, reaching out to brush his hair back from his face.

"How are you here?" She ran her fingers across his mouth, as if to reassure herself that he was actually there. He smiled at her, mixed with a grimace of pain, and she watched his shoulders shrug.

"I had to make sure you were safe," he murmured, reaching out a shaky hand to tug the end of her ponytail. With a groan, he dropped his hand back down, pain flaring up in his eyes. "I'm sorry, dove."

His eyes closed in sleep, and Riley felt every muscle in her body begin to tremble as the adrenaline that had been fueling her flowed away. Curling up next to him, she pressed her lips briefly to his and rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

He would live. She knew it.

* * *

**A/N:**

**This scene is so different from how I originally imagined this story drawing to a close. These two have definitely taken on a life of their own. I don't think I'll ever be able to use Belrand with another character after all this drama.**

**One more chapter after this. I think.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**

**This is it. The final chapter! **

**Thank you, every single one of you, for all the positive reviews, favorites and follows. You have no idea how much that means to me after having taken such a long break from writing fiction. Frankly, I'm amazed and quite proud of myself for finishing it up, and the encouragement I got along the way really contributed to that.**

**Standard warnings where warnings apply: SMUT AHOY! SMUTTY, SMUTTY SMUT! Honestly, it's probably a bit tame, since I have to admit this is my first time ever attempting to write such a scene. But, consider yourself warned. Naughty bits ahead! **

* * *

Belrand had no idea how many hours he'd slept, but the light shining through the window indicated early afternoon. Squinting against the beam of sun blazing into his eyes, he sat up in bed and looked around the room. He smiled a little, realizing it was the embodiment of Riley. It was small and comforting, bunches of dried herbs and flowers dangling from every available surface, a riot of scents competing for dominance. It was like sitting in a room sized bowl of potpourri.

Lowering the blanket, he checked the damage to his stomach. Whoever had gone to work on him had known what they were doing, and had a high mastery of the healing arts. Other than a faint scar, he could scarcely tell he'd been stabbed in the gut. Somehow his armor had been completely removed and he had been dressed in a pair of cotton pajamas. He decided he didn't want to know where they had come from. He felt a little weak, a lingering reminder of the poison, though he guessed it could just as easily be hunger. He was ravenous, a common side effect of the temporary metabolism increase well-made healing potions provided, and incredibly thirsty. A throat cleared at the door, and he looked up to find Riley standing there with a large pitcher of liquid and an empty glass which she proceeded to fill for him.

"It's like you read my mind," he croaked, taking the glass and lifting it to his parched lips. It was not water, darker than that but very refreshing. It left the faint flavor of honey and flowers on his tongue. Guzzling it down, he lifted his eyes to hers in question.

"Ah, it's a stamina restoration tea I've been working on. A lot less _'oomph' _than a full strength potion, but almost none of the side effects. Good for situations like this, to help boost the recovery time," she explained, taking the glass from him and filling it up for him again. He drank slower this time, savoring the complicated blend of flavors. _Maybe she wouldn't be a terrible cook after all. _He gave himself a mental kick for having the audacity to even think along those lines.

"Belrand..." She started to speak, and he braced himself for the verbal lashing he knew he deserved. A knock sounded from the front of the house, interrupting her thoughts. He watched her frown in consternation as she stepped back into the living room. The positioning of the bed made it impossible for him to see the front door, but he heard her softly questioning the visitor before opening the door. A high-pitched, over-excited, slightly familiar male voice immediately started chattering away.

"By the Nine, Riley! I was just passing through Falkreath on my way to bring you these chaurus eggs I picked up and I ran into Zaria. She told me happened and I raced over here as quick as I could! Are you okay, do you need anything? You have to tell me what's going on!"

Belrand's thoughts went into a tailspin as the words travelled around him at a dizzying speed. He remembered where he knew that voice. It was the farmhand he had helped that night in Rorikstead. He'd given the lad some gold to purchase armor with in exchange for him accompanying Riley to this house. He'd made sure the road would be clear so the untrained youth wouldn't have to put his skills to the test, but at the time - in a fit of despondent insanity, he supposed - he had thought that perhaps this man might be the perfect sort of person for Riley to get to know. In that moment, he had truly believed he was doing the right thing for everyone. Considering the pinpricks of jealousy that were taking hold, he would have to say that he was the biggest bloody fool to ever walk across Skyrim.

"It's okay, Erik. I'm fine. Everything is fine," she soothed, and the felt the pins dig deeper at the affection he could hear in her voice.

"You know how much I hate it, how removed you are from the town. Anything could happen out here," the youth whined, and Belrand winced a bit at the tone. Sounded like a bit of a milk-drinker, this one. Of course, Erik was still hanging around, apparently helping Riley out quite a bit, so who was he to pass judgment?

"No, really. I'm perfectly safe. What happened yesterday was a fluke, Erik. I don't have roving gangs of bandits parading through my home on a regular basis. Besides, Belrand was here and he made sure I was safe," she replied. Belrand tilted his head to the side at her wording. She didn't sound angry or annoyed with him, even though he knew she must be. Hell, he was angry and annoyed with himself. She was definitely downplaying the severity of the incident with the young man, though. He wondered why she was withholding the details.

"Zaria told me that as well. I didn't know you two were still in contact with each other."

"Neither did I," he just barely caught her muttered words. _Ah-ha!_ There was the annoyance.

"Well, I still think you should reconsider my offer. We'd make an amazing team, you know," Erik persisted. Belrand listened to Riley issue a few more placating murmurs, and heard what sounded like a kiss before the front door closed again. His head was a riot of questions, but once the initial wave of jealousy passed he doubted his right to even put such thoughts into words. Moments passed with torturous slowness before Riley's footsteps echoed on her way back toward the bedroom. She stood in the doorway and quietly looked over him, silence weighing heavy over the room.

Belrand cleared his throat, feeling ridiculously awkward. "I remember Erik."

"Yes," she nodded. "He told me what you did for him. That was very kind of you."

"He seems very nice," he commented, trying with very little success to keep the rising bitterness out of his voice. Riley blinked, giving away that she'd picked up on his tone. Sighing at himself, Belrand lowered his eyes to his lap.

"That's because he _is _nice," she snapped, anger peppering her words. Shaking her head, she pushed away from the doorframe. "I'm sure you're starving. I'll go fix you some stew."

Then she was gone, leaving Belrand to growl lightly in frustration. He knew he deserved this, but there was still that spark of hope in him that she'd forgive him. After six months of trying to analyze and expunge the feelings he had for her, he'd finally accepted them for what they were. Waking in her home, lying in her bed while she took care of him, was not a position he had expected to find himself in, but he was here just the same. It seemed as though the Divines were sending him a message.

_You let self doubt and second guessing get the better of you once before, and look where that got you, _he thought, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, fighting the wave of vertigo that tried to take root. _You'd have to be an idiot to let that happen again._

* * *

Riley was spooning venison stew into a large wooden bowl when she heard the shuffling footsteps behind her. She turned to see Belrand leaning unsteadily against her kitchen table, his color pale but otherwise looking healthy. He sank into the chair, letting loose a giant sigh of relief and gratitude as she placed the bowl in front of him. He tore into the food like it was the first meal he'd had in days.

"Good," he grunted, color returning to his cheeks. He took the bread she proffered him and used it to sop up every last drop. Smiling softly to herself, she took his rapidly emptied bowl and refilled it for him. He was recovering quickly. She'd been lucky, having made a mad dash for town as soon as she was satisfied he was in no danger of immediately dying. A healer had been passing through the area and had not hesitated to follow the group back to Riley's home. He'd worked his magic like a master, and had assured her that Belrand would make a quick, full recovery.

She watched him as he ate, still having difficulty believing that he was really sitting in front of her. She'd kept expecting for him to vanish in a puff of smoke as she'd watched over the proceedings the night before, like the dream image she half believed him to be. She had spent many nights imagining what it would be like, should she ever see him again. Would she be furious like she was in the first few weeks? It hadn't made sense to her then, that someone she had barely known _two days _could cause her so much pain. But the truth was she felt nothing but a hesitant wave of happiness now that he was here in her home. She watched him set down his spoon and scoot back in his chair with an appreciative sigh. He stretched his legs out in front of him and locked eyes with her. She felt the heat rising up in her face in response to the intensity of his gaze.

"Are you and Erik serious with each other?" His voice was gruff, but she heard the uncertainty in his voice and felt a momentary thrill of satisfaction. Was he jealous? She resisted the urge to smirk and shook her head at him. She was fairly certain that the sag that came to his shoulders was borne of relief.

"He wants to be," she answered, unable to completely sheathe her claws. He had hurt her, damnit, and her pride was yelling at her to return the favor while she had the chance. But something in his eyes told her that he had been punishing himself far worse than she ever could.

"What do you want?" He asked, keeping his eyes trained on hers as she took a step closer to him. He didn't look tired anymore. Not at all. He looked almost... predatory. A shiver passed down her spine and she lowered herself into his lap, bringing her mouth next to his ear. He pulled in a sharp breath and brought his hands to her arms, as though to hold her in place.

"You," she whispered to him, pressing her lips to his cheek. "Only you." His arms wrapped around her, she could feel his body shaking as he crushed her to his chest. He pushed her back and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you going to run away again?" He winced at her question, but did not look away. Staring deeply into her eyes he shook his head. She could see the honesty shining in them. Honesty, hope, and something deeper. She brought her lips to his and sank into his welcoming groan, his hands moving into her hair to twist and tug before sliding down to wrap around her waist. It felt glorious.

He stood with her trapped in his arms, and she wondered if perhaps she'd been brewing the tea a little too strong. But then he was edging towards the bedroom, dancing her around in slow, steady circles, lips still locked together and tongues dueling. His hands moved up and down her back in strong, sweet strokes. She moaned long and low, and he pulled her in tighter where she could feel his arousal pressed against her belly. The backs of her knees bumped against the edge of her bed and he slowly released her from his grasp. Disengaging his mouth from hers, he leaned back to pull off his shirt and dropped it to the ground.

Feeling strangely bold under his feverish gaze, she gathered her skirt in her hands and raised her dress up and over her head. Reaching behind her back she tugged loose the ties of the binding she wore, exposing her breasts. His eyes narrowed and his mouth took on a wicked smile. Her knees shook as he brought his hands back to her waist, twisting his fingers around the stays at her hips. Freed, the cloth fell from her body to join the gathering pile of clothes at their feet.

Licking her lips, she pressed her hands against his muscular, scarred chest eliciting a needy groan. Remembering what he had done to her on that long ago morning, she brought her mouth down on one of his nipples, using her teeth to gently nip and tease. He moaned and carefully pushed her back from him, lowering her onto the bed. She raised herself up on her elbows to watch as he slid his pants down his legs, exposing his considerable erection before lowering himself down on the bed next to her. For the first time since she had climbed into his lap, she felt the intrusion of nerves. She had no idea what she was doing. Seeing the uncertainty in her eyes, Belrand slowly pushed on her shoulder, encouraging her to lay back on the bed. She complied, drawing in a deep breath to steady her trembling as his appreciative eyes roamed over her body.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, just barely brushing his fingertips across the tips of her hardening nipples.

Arching her back in response to the thrill that shot straight through her body, she nodded and fisted her hands in the sheets. He brought his mouth to her neck, sucking gently, as his fingers continued tracing delicate patterns in her skin. His lips finally made their way down to lavish her breasts as his wonderfully calloused hands continued their path to the juncture of her thighs.

"_Belrand_," she moaned, as his thumb found her nub and began to gently move over it in soft, small circles. Heat pooled between her legs as deft fingers probed her opening, and her eyes squeezed shut against the stars that suddenly appeared and started dancing behind her lids. His mouth traveled back up to her neck to her ear, pausing to tease her earlobe.

"I don't mean to hurt you, dove, but this next part might be a bit uncomfortable," he whispered in her ear. Her voice seemed to have deserted her sometime during the onslaught of sensations, so she met his eyes with a steady gaze and nodded in understanding. He rolled himself on top of her, using his arms to brace his weight just above her as she instinctually wrapped her legs around his hips. She felt his erection rubbing against her sex and did her best not to tense.

"You are so beautiful," he moaned as he claimed her lips in a possessive kiss and pressed himself inside of her with one fluid motion. Pain burned briefly through her, but quickly faded into rising pleasure as he moved within her. Slow thrusts picked up in speed and she found herself raising her hips to meet each one in turn. She felt so full, so complete, the pleasure spiraling out and intensifying until she found herself clawing at his back and shouting out his name as the stars appeared again, a thousand times as bright as the first, until finally they exploded and set her body rocking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her . His moans in her ear promised her he was following right alongside. With a deep, happy sigh he rolled over to lie next to her, gathering her up against his chest. They lay silently for several minutes, luxuriating in the feel of one another.

"I love you, Riley," he whispered, running his fingers up and down her arm as she snuggled in closer. She felt the rumble of his words with her lips as she dotted his throat with tiny kisses. "I was a goner the second I laid eyes on you. These last few months have been a living hell for me, dove. I'm so sorry I left you when I did."

"I love you, too. I was powerless against the pull of your perfectly maintained fur," she teased, smiling at his gentle chuckle. His fingers continued to stroke and sooth, moving from her arms to her thighs. She felt the delicious tingling starting up again in her stomach and rewarded him with a gentle nip to the shoulder. "Keep that up and I'll have to tie you to the bed, just to make sure you never leave again."

"I'm not going anywhere unless you ask me to, dove. I think you're the only person in all of Tamriel that makes me _want _to stay still." Content, she stretched out in his embrace, carefully rolling herself until she sat straddling him. His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed her a naughty grin. Smiling down at him, she ran her fingers through his auburn hair, giving his braid a not so gentle tug.

"Not too still, I hope. I'm in need of a big, strapping man - a chivalrous knight, if you will - to keep me safe while I have lots of adventures. I was kind of hoping you'd be available for the job."

"Oh, I think we can come to an arrangement. But it's going to cost you this time," he waggled his eyebrows at her as she threw back her head in laughter. Looking back down at him, his face grew serious for a moment as he twined his fingers with hers. "Marry me, Riley?"

Joy bubbled up in her throat, and she draped herself over his body as she brought her lips back down to his. She melted into his mouth, pouring as much love into one kiss as she possibly could. Breaking away, she opened her eyes and stared steadily into his beautiful, mismatched pair.

"Yes."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Who needs an Amulet of Mara, amirite?**

**Ok, another note. When I first got the idea for this story, I did think I would follow it with a sequel of sorts, taking this duo through the main story line. However, writing this was a learning process for me, and one of the things I learned was that I really enjoy keeping the story shorter and more contained. The big quests of the game have been covered so many times by so many excellent writers, that a big part of me would prefer to steer clear of them.**

**That being said, I already have many, many ideas running through my head for future stories featuring some of the other more minor followers in the game. I find that taking such underdeveloped characters and breathing life into them is something I absolutely love doing, and I definitely want to take the time to flesh out those ideas. In fact, I already have a pretty solid foundation going for a short story involving Benor (obviously heavily modded, the poor man) and a beguiling witch who wanders into Morthal to do beguiling, witchy things.**

**As sad as I am to see the story of Riley and Belrand come to an end, I am incredibly excited to start these new stories. I hope that you guys will enjoy reading them as much as I'm sure I'll enjoy writing them.**


End file.
